


a little bit of help

by rapmonied



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A bit of angst i guess, Drinking, Drunk Sex, M/M, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Soft Porn, but he still bottoms, kuroo doesn't know how to mind his business, only for know because it will be the main focus of chapter 2, side kuroken, tsukki blushes a lot, which is good, yamaguchi's more dominant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapmonied/pseuds/rapmonied
Summary: Tsukkishima and Yamaguchi spend the night at Kuroo and Kenma's place.





	a little bit of help

**Author's Note:**

> ok so if you're here for the kuroken, the second chapter is all about them. that's why i put the tag there.

    Graduation felt as though it came and went by in a flash. All the third years had a different experience graduating. Hinata and Kageyama successfully passed their exams after a lot of struggling; both being offered full scholarships to study abroad based on their athletic performance. They decided to stick together, as throughout the years they have discovered they are strongest together. Tsukishima aced his exams almost effortlessly, getting in one of the top Universities in Tokyo and Yamaguchi – he, too, had a good time passing his exams. More than that, he gets to live in the same city as Tsukishima.  


    Their last spring tournament also came by and went very quickly. Karasuno has become an established powerhouse after their success in their first year, taking the nationals by storm. Tsukishima, Hinata and Kageyama were unmoved from their starter positions, while Yamaguchi became an increasingly reliable pinch server. Maybe even more interestingly, it was Tsukishima who led the team in their last year, after Ennoshita and Daichi before him. Between him and Kageyama, he was able to keep a cool head and analyze the situation better most times, so the decision was easy to make. Thinking about their last tournament now – it makes Yamaguchi nostalgic.  


    A lot of their initial starting members are in Tokyo, actually. Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi have all went on to attend Gakudai, while Nishinoya got a scholarship for Meiji. Tanaka was also nearby, in Saitama University. Given this situation, they all agreed to have a meet up in spite of the absence of their freak duo. With the summer holiday almost over, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima had to move in their new dorms and start preparing for university. With Nekoma’s Kenma and Kuroo still in town (and with their own apartment), they all decide to spend a few days together.  


    By the time Tsukishima and Yamaguchi arrive in Tokyo, after about 3 hours on the train, they’re both kind of exhausted. ”Kuro-san should be here to pick us up,” _Kuro-san?_ Tsukishima sighed, sitting down on a bench in the train station. Yamaguchi knows there’s nothing to be jealous of. He’s just stupid sometimes. Promises he made to himself in his early high school days have been broken over and over to the point where there’s no point in promising anything for college.  


Yamaguchi’s phone buzzes quietly in his pocket. One text says Noya is just putting his stuff in his room and will arrive at Kuroo’s place around 8. Another is a picture of Sugawara unpacking. The last one’s Tanaka on a bus.  


    “Why’re you so quiet?”  


    “I am?”  


    “Yamaguchi.”  


    “Just tired.”  


    Most always that’s the answer he gives. _Just thinking about you_ is a more accurate answer though. Not like he has any plans on being truthful.  
    It’s hard to ever be prepared for the kind of energy that any Nekoma player exudes. Especially the captain. Kuroo comes followed by Kenma, as they always have, and Yamaguchi can’t help but envy the way they stand so comfortably next to each other, whereas he tenses whenever Tsukishima gets too close for comfort. He keeps telling himself that there are ways to work around this, but it’s really hard to find them out.  


    On the subway ride back to their place, Yamaguchi is painfully aware how easily Kuroo can talk to Tsukishima. How Kuroo would place a friendly hand on his shoulder. _Your personality really sucks_ and _At least I don’t scare people with my face_ and _New glasses? Ball to the face?_ so Yamaguchi just looks away. Away in this case, however, meant eye contact with Nekoma’s former setter. Kenma gives him an almost sympathetic smile (You know how he is) and returns his eyes to the screen of his phone. Yamaguchi nods his head accordingly.  


    Their apartment is bigger than what he expected of two university students. It’s surprising that they even got one, considering their families are in Tokyo and they could easily just live in their houses. Come to think of it – Tsukishima told him that they only moved in last year, when Kenma went to college.  


“So? What do you think?” Kuroo’s all grins and almost like a proud father. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi both smile.  


    “It’s a nice place. Rent in Tokyo’s crazy though, are you two working?”  


    “This is not on rent actually, my father had an acquaintance who sold it for a pretty small price. I think it’s a pretty good place. And Kenma has a nice place for his computer which was like crucial for my safety and well – don’t hit me – my sanity.”  


    “Kuroo teaches a children’s class of volley though, he says it’s pocket money.”  


    They sit at the table in the living room talking about _how it’s been_ and _where are the dorms_ and _how are the others?_ and such – their last national tournament, Kenma and Kuroo only came to watch, but they couldn’t meet that time around, so it’s been roughly one year and a half since Karasuno and Nekoma sat at a table.  


    “Since Daichi and the rest already have their rooms and everything, they asked me to let you two sleep here for today and tomorrow. Our couch extends you can sleep on there,” Kuroo mutters with his face planted in the fridge, digging and digging. “I’m gonna – cook now – Kenma where is the soy sauce? And the peanut butter?” Kenma raises his shoulders _I don’t know_ but says nothing. “And Tanaka-san?” Yamaguchi shakes off the mental image of sharing a bed with Tsukishima with some more banter, nervous as he is.  


    “He said he will go to Nishinoya’s dorm, that’s what Daichi-san told us,” Kenma is the one to reply this time. In his last year of high school and possibly under the influence of Hinata, Kenma went out of his shell more and more. In their second year of high school, when Nekoma beat them in the final of the nationals, Kenma surprisingly shouted out about how it was revenge for their captain last year. In their last year of high school, Karasuno took the nationals again. So it was 2 – 1 for Karasuno. Daichi will never let them live it down. (Especially Kuroo.)  


    “Hey, will you help me cook? Kenma, you two go and unpack a bit. Put some of their stuff in the bedroom,” Kuroo drags Tsukishima by the collar and starts explaining, gesturing to ingredients and the oven. Similarly, Kenma places a hand on Yamaguchi’s shoulder and they start moving luggage. Their bedroom is quite messy, nothing like his room during exam season though. More notably it has only one bed. A king size. Yamaguchi almost has a short circuit with the implications in spite of the fact he’s most likely overthinking. And yet…  


    “O—Oh, I’m sorry. Kuroo! You didn’t even make the bed?!” Kenma moves to tidy up the place as if that is why Yamaguchi stares at the bed dumbfounded. “Y—You two sleep together?” The look Kenma throws him almost makes him back off, but the older just nods shortly, a few rogue strands of hair falling on his face. “It’s what couples do, I guess,” he’s being so blunt Yamaguchi just gapes wordlessly. (except for a soft Oh)  


    On the one hand, he’s really relieved for some reason. Not like he ever felt like Kuroo was trying to make a move of Tsukki, but he was aware of how close they were. That is not to say Yamaguchi and Tsukishima weren’t – but because of complicated feelings it was hard to draw just a little closer to his side. “Don’t stare like that, It’s not that weird,” Yamaguchi’s face lit up in shame and he quickly apologizes, going back to carrying luggage. Ah, now he really envies them.  


    The third years arrive before Tsukishima and Kuroo are done cooking. Seeing them brings a wave of nostalgic happiness over the former pinch server, simply because it brings comfort and familiarity. The three waste no time in pulling their underclassmen in almost bone-crushingly tight hugs. Yamaguchi feels like they’ve all gotten bigger since the last spring, especially Asahi. Their presence is wide and long, but they each hold the same feel to them that they once used to have. Daichi, firm but kind. Sugawara, almost a motherly inviting aura and Asahi – he might look tough, but he is definitely as soft as ever.  


    “Tsukishima! What the hell, it’s only been a few months, did you grow taller?” They all ask in almost one breath.  


    “Ah, no, not really – I’m still 193cm,” his cheeks flush pink.  


    Cute.  


    “Noya-san and Tanaka-san?” Yamaguchi peeks his head out from behind Tsukishima, smiling. “They’re back at Noya’s place to drop off Tanaka’s stuff. They’ll be here soon,”  


    They all help with the final stages of cooking setting up the table and preparing for the evening. It’s all really quiet until you can hear the voices of the second year duo as they make their way up the stairs. They never fail to liven up the atmosphere, to make everything fresh and exciting, even if some people (Kageyama and Tsukishima) will always be complaining about it.  


    They eat, laugh, and reminiscence about the high school days. The elders give friendly advice to the two just entering university, they share a few beers. After the others leave it gets almost pressingly quiet.  


    Kuroo only says “Let’s talk,” before he drags Tsukishima away and out of the apartment, leaving Kenma and Yamaguchi to clean up the table. It’s strangely not that weird. In many ways, Kenma and Yamaguchi were alike. If he were to be honest, it was easy to for Yamaguchi to also feel a bit reclusive. It’s all mostly caused by what he believes are his shortcomings. Maybe it’s also more comfortable to make himself small at his best friend’s side who always, always outshines him. But that’s alright.  


    “Hey,” Kenma calls again, a little louder. Yamaguchi stares at his hands in the sink and realizes he’s been spacing out for some time. “Sorry,” _there’s a lot on my mind right now._ “Can I ask you something?” There’s something about that phrase that Yamaguchi doesn’t like, no matter who it’s coming form. He nods anyway. “You like him, don’t you?” He’s staring at his hands in the sink, in the lukewarm water, listening to the sound of the faucet dripping; he looks at the dirty plates.  


    He wants to run away from this question, even if he knows the answer all too well.  


    “A lot,” he answers, in spite of his reluctance to admit it to even himself.  


    “I heard from Kuro, how you were friends since you were little after he told some bullies off, how you’ve been together ever since, about his brother thing – Tsukishima-kun told him on his own,”  


    “So, Tsukki and Kuroo-san must be super close then.”  


    Kenma laughs, and it’s kind of pleasant and friendly and Yamaguchi hates how he almost forgets for a second that they might be dissecting this part of him that he’d rather forget exists. Kenma laughs on.  


    “That’s really not what I was trying to say,” it sounded like what he was trying to say. “When I say he told Kuro on his own it’s more like a ‘Kuroo-san I have this thing that I can’t talk about to with anybody so will you listen to me?’ kind of thing,”  


    Yamaguchi has to stop and wonder what kind of thing it could be that he can’t tell him. Tsukishima is horribly _tsundere_ , he knows, but during all these years, if there was something that was truly bothering him, or that he really needed to get off his chest he would talk to Yamaguchi. This piece of information makes his heart ache painfully. He doesn’t mention it, though.  


    “And then he goes ‘I have someone I care about but I can’t tell him -- I mean them,’ and he almost hangs up,” Kenma’s amusement rings in the air in small chuckles as he puts the table cloth away. “Is this the part where you tell me he has a crush on Kuroo-san?” The words feel bitter and heavy on his tongue, and he chews on his lower lip nervously. Kenma’s presence behind him suddenly startles him, but he’s – sad.  


    “It’s the part where I tell you he has a crush on you.”  


    The world slows down for a good two seconds. Yamaguchi turns around and catches a glimpse of Kenma’s eyes. He was not joking. In the next 10 seconds, a succession of Yamaguchi blushing up to his ears, dropping a plate (a plastic plate, but still), and tripping over himself to pick it up takes place. Kenma’s eyes were very certain, but also very kind. Very sympathetic.  


    “Kuro really wants this to work for you two. Now that I’ve confirmed that you reciprocate his feelings, just tell him what you told me just now.”  


    “Kenma-san, wouldn’t it be weird if I went up to him and said ‘A lot’?” they sit on the floor and exchange chuckles. He’s trying to pretend that he’d have the courage to say anything in front of Tsukishima’s face, at least to keep the illusion going for himself. He can’t wrap his head around it. Kuroo could’ve misunderstood his words, taken them out of context, mistaken the person. But that was alright, Yamaguchi learned not to hope for anything.  


    “Kenma-san, shouldn’t you know better than anyone that speaking up is really hard?”  


    Come to think of it, Kenma’s position might be a little more advantageous. He might be a complete introvert who would find it very hard to speak about his feelings, but Kuroo is the complete opposite of that. Loud and outspoken. “Was it Kuroo-san who confessed to you?” Tsukishima wouldn’t – he wouldn’t say anything like that on his own. Yamaguchi knows.  


    “It’s more complicated than that. Let’s say it was a – mutual confession. I know it sucks talking about feelings and stuff better than anyone, but knowing how he feels should make it a little easier, I think.”  


    Kuroo and Tsukishima walk into the room shortly after that. Yamaguchi is not exactly stupid. The look on his best friend’s face is very telling. He and Kuroo must have had a similar topic of discussion. This only makes cleaning the dining room in silence all the more awkward. As Yamaguchi and Tsukishima place the plates and cups back on the racks one by one, Yamaguchi almost wishes he could reach his hand out instead and play with Tsukishima’s fingers. He doesn’t.  


    “Let me open up the couch for you guys. Kenma, get some sheets and a blanket, also there’s some alcohol in the fridge, you guys get it out and help yourselves,” Now, Yamaguchi is not that big on drinking, not even since he became legal. He knows Tsukishima is the same. However, there is a silent agreement that they both would rather be drinking.  


    Taking the first gulp out of his beer can, Yamaguchi remembers what he’d read the other night on the internet about alcohol. How it _loosens the tongue, discards inhibitions, makes you honest._ If drinking for a while would force out a confession out of him then maybe he should not be drinking.  


    After they set up the bed, Kenma and Kuroo join the two, and their little drinking session turns out to be two hours long. Kuroo was clearly the most drunk out of them all, and Kenma was already helping him up and to their bedroom. Yamaguchi ignores the way Kuroo’s arms wrap around Kenma’s middle, or how his lips suddenly latch onto Kenma’s neck, in spite of the smaller’s protests. Kuroo is whispering things against Kenma’s skin, Yamaguchi can tell, but there’s a loud white noise in his ears preventing him from hearing anything.  


    Judging by the lack of reaction of Tsukishima’s part he can also tell his best friend was aware of this situation. That, or he’s too drunk to care.  


    Yamaguchi blinks and suddenly, the two are nowhere to be seen anymore. He looks around, a little disoriented. Stares at the fridge, then at the oven. He can tell he’s drunk. Yamaguchi can clearly distinguish where the reality ends and his foggy mind begins playing subtle tricks on him. Where the buzz in the back of his head becomes just a little too real.  


    Then his eyes meet Tsukishima’s. His hair’s sitting messy from where Kuroo was ruffling it just a few minutes ago. His glasses hang heavy on the bridge of his nose where there are little marks into the skin. He’s been wearing the glasses all day. Under the lenses of his glasses, his cheeks were clearly flushed. As Yamaguchi’s eyes travel just a little lower, and he catches a glimpse at his best friend’s slightly parted lips, he briefly wonders what it would sound like if Tsukishima called him Tadashi. Bad thought. Dangerous.  


    He shuffles in his seat.  


    It must have been two minutes of pure silence. So much for alcohol making your tongue loose. Yamaguchi then wonders what Tsukishima’s thinking about. Why are his thumbs brushing together almost anxiously? Why is he chewing on his bottom lip? Why are his cheeks even more rosy now? Yamaguchi surprises himself once again:  


     _Fuck it,_ he thinks, _I’m gonna tell him._ And then nothing. Nothing except for “U—Uh, Tsukki…” Tsukki himself almost jumps out of his skin, but Yamaguchi is somehow far too in his own head to notice that the two are feeling equally anxious. Equally embarrassed. But more than anything, they both experience the same latent fire burning underneath their skin, itching and begging to be scratched. Yamaguchi takes another hefty gulp out of his fourth can of beer.  


    They make some small talk for the next 10 minutes. Trying to keep a straight conversation about how well their upperclassmen seem to be while drunk is particularly difficult. “I’m glad Noya-san and Tanaka-san didn’t cause trouble at their new schools,” _Tsukki, I really like you._ “Hah, Noya-san’s always gonna talk like that to Asahi-san, I feel,” _I wanna kiss you._ “I don’t think it’s us we should worry about when Kageyama and Hinata are in a foreign country,” _I want you._  


    Oh. Yamaguchi presses his thighs tight together and looks down in shame. “Let’s go lay down for a bit maybe,” Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea. They do it anyway. Their feet are both hanging off the bed and on the floor, their bodies laid out diagonally so their heads are almost pressed together. Almost. They spend the next 5 minutes staring at the ceiling in silence. Yamaguchi almost believes that Tsukishima fell asleep. Almost.  


    “Yamaguchi,”  


    “Hm?”  


    “This is a bad idea, but I really like you,” he drunk chuckles, and it’s really pretty.  


    Yamaguchi wants to roll over to see his best friend better, but what ends up happening is that he rolls himself over on top of Tsukishima’s chest, broad and comfortable. Perfect to sleep on. “Since when?” he asks, instead of replying. Maybe he wants back at years upon years of teasing. Not that he was mad, just as a matter of principle. Tsukishima squeezes his body closer, suddenly, stealing a little breath from Yamaguchi’s lungs. “A long time ago,”  


    He lets himself be maneuvered around, lets Tsukki roll him on his side and wrap his arms around him for some reason.  


    “This is not just the alcohol?”  


    “What? No!”  


    They stay like that for some time. Yamaguchi’s playing with the hem of his best friend’s shirt and Tsukishima is writing things into his belly with his fingertips. Yamaguchi thinks he’s writing _Yamaguchi_. It’s positively adorable. “Tsukki,” there’s a sudden shortage of air around them. It doesn’t matter much.  


    “I like you too, and for such a smart guy if you haven’t figured it out on your own then I am…really…disappointed…” Getting embarrassed mid-sentence is exactly the level of lameness you come to expect from Yamaguchi. Tsukki, however, finds it endearing. Tsukki squeezes his arms again. Yamaguchi feels so, so small in his arms.  


    The whole universe seems to start beating with the same energy all of a sudden. There’s a late summer storm brewing outside, and the lights go off suddenly. Power outage? Yamaguchi’s hand boldly travels the short path between Tsukki’s shoulder to his face. He doesn’t know why, but he takes off his glasses and discards them somewhere. (But gently, of course)  


    “I can’t see.”  


    “There’s no light anyway.”  


    Yamaguchi wants to say something else, but apparently he is too embarrassed to tell Tsukki how much he wishes they can just skip this whole awkward phase and just get to making out. Making out. Right. Yamaguchi scoots up with his knees until their faces are aligned, foreheads fitting together easily. He can taste Tsukki’s breath on his lips, and he chases it wildly in his head. He craves it like a starved animal, but also tenderly and patiently. He’s been waiting for a long time.  


    Karasuno’s former pinch server can’t figure out who leaned in first, but somebody certainly did. There’s lips on his, very real and very present. At first they don’t move, they don’t even breathe. After the initial moment of peaceful bliss, they explode.  


    It’s Yamaguchi who tugs them over first, rolling onto his back and dragging Tsukki’s whole body along with him. Once more, draped over him like that, Yamaguchi feels incredibly small, but it also feels incredibly good. The two pairs of lips that were slowly indulging in the pleasure of the feeling, are now betraying the hunger that lay dormant for years. Yamaguchi discovers he might like a bit of pain when Tsukki accidentally bites on his lower lip a bit too hard. Tsukki quickly figures out that the idea of Yamaguchi’s mouth _anywhere_ on him is illegal and too good to be true.  


    After what feels like forever, they pull apart, breathless. “Fuck,” Yamaguchi can see Tsukki’s face so clearly in spite of the dark, and can hear his uneven breath perfectly in spite of the noise coming from the storm. “Tsukki,” he’s surprised by his voice. It’s more a whimper than an attempt at forming a coherent sentence. “You’re frowning,” he takes the time to smile. And he can’t see himself, but he hopes his best friend knows how fond he is.  


    “Can’t see you properly,” Tsukki half mutters, half groans in frustration. He moves again. Yamaguchi almost yelps when his former teammate’s fingers dig into the flesh of his inner thighs and push them apart. His jeans are not made to provide flexibility. He’ll have to get rid of them soon. Well, he would – if Tsukki wouldn’t have planted himself right in between his parted legs. “Can’t see you either, the lights are out.”  


    Yamaguchi doesn’t know what to do but pull him in for another kiss. His mouth is open when they come together, and where the previous kiss was clumsy and betrayed inexperience, this time around the hungry movements of their lips make their intentions almost transparent. Somewhere in the back of his head, Yamaguchi knows it’s a bit immoral to have sex in the house of your friends when they can walk in on you at any point. Can he bring himself to care, though? No, not really.  


    On the topic of sex, Yamaguchi feels suddenly empowered by how Tsukki was whining low into his mouth, chasing the thrill more and more, but he deliberately holds off on his best friend. His fingers tangle in the blond hair for leverage and, almost on a whim, his hips push forward and roll right where their crotches are pressed together, and simultaneously they keen. Naturally, they are not strangers to lust, or want, or getting aroused. However, they both are in agreement that nothing before comes even close to this.  


    “Yamaguchi,” lips trail down on Yamaguchi’s neck, “I really want you,” There’s something about Tsukishima’s tone, almost like those words were not meant for Yamaguchi to hear, but a confirmation for Tsukishima. Yes, this is real, and this is happening, and it’s not just a hormonal teenage fantasy this time.  


    Yamaguchi whines, he didn’t think that Tsukishima would be so aggressive in sucking on different spots on his neck, but he is. A particular rough suck has Yamaguchi complaining about the pain, which in turn causes Tsukishima to halt with a worried look. “Sorry, I don’t wanna hurt you,” Yamaguchi never shook his head faster in his life, “No, I kinda like it.”  


    There is a power balance quickly emerging. Yamaguchi, who has almost never before indulged in the pleasure of thinking this might even be a possibility, is now strangely confident, even a little demanding. In turn, Tsukishima, who has spent at least the past three years making up a million different scenarios in his head, is hesitant and shy. Unsure.  


    Yamaguchi takes his hands. They rest at the top of his chest, and he pushes them lower and lower with ease, down to where the hem of his shirt is starting to ride up. He breathes “Hey, Tsukki. Touch me, I wanna feel your hands,” His hands are rough. They’ve been on the ball for so many years, of course they would be. Strangely, though, Yamaguchi finds them gentle, warm and inviting. Home-y. He guides Tsukishima’s hands until they reach the starting point on his chest, except this time Tsukishima’s hands are underneath his shirt.  


    Tsukishima tries his best for all of one second not to ogle, except Yamaguchi is slim, but so fit, years of jumping and jumping and jumping turning into firm abs and nicely defined muscles, but there’s something also quite delicate about the way Yamaguchi’s back arched in natural response to the skin on skin contact, the way his toes curl in his socks (without Tsukki being aware of it). More than anything, Yamaguchi looks so damn good Tsukishima could just take him in that very moment.  


    He goes the extra step of removing Yamaguchi’s shirt completely, before removing his previous task of making sure that, tomorrow everybody knows that Yamaguchi was just his for the night. (As much as sober him will want to hide away in shame and maybe die) Yamaguchi pushes him off before he gets the chance to do that. Still, he got some pretty good hickeys on there.  


    Yamaguchi is much quicker in discarding his boyfriend’s(?) top. The blond is keeling in between his thighs, and he’s high up above him, so when Yamaguchi pushes himself up to meet him, he’s face first into his chest. Yamaguchi drags his tongue down along the sternum, then starts placing kisses pretty much anywhere he can get his mouth on. He’s memorized well every single bump and denture in the skin on his lips. He wants to remember it well.  


    There’s something sexy about the way the back of Tsukishima’s neck is drenched, in spite of the fact that they’re just getting started. Or maybe more like fascinating. Yeah, Yamaguchi is fascinated beyond coherent thought. The way he’s still frowning in concentration is also strangely fascinating. So is the way his biceps are really tense.  
    They both simultaneously look down at where their crotches are pressed together, all clothed and visibly tight. They exchange a glance. Yamaguchi can read the embarrassment and the reluctance – but he is not having it. He pushes Tsukishima off the bed and standing with two gentle, but firm hands on his shoulders.  


    “Tsukki, I’m going to – um, I’ll take off your pants, is that okay?” He doesn’t know why he asks, Tsukishima doesn’t look like he was going to protest anyway. But, there’s something about hearing him talk, verbally express his desires. Yamaguchi is dizzy with want more than the alcohol now, and it’s far stronger. He waits patiently and watches with interest the changes in the other’s face. At first, a bit shocked, then evasive, finally, truthful. “Please…”  


    Yamaguchi’s hands are trembling. It’s just a button, just a pair of jeans. However, from here on out it gets really real, really quick. Tsukishima’s pants are loose enough to fall down to his ankles without a fight. There’s two separate, sharp intakes of breaths. They have seen each other naked plenty of times, but the context is so different this time around, how can they not be nervous?  


    Yamaguchi holds his best friend’s gaze as he leans in. His lips attach to the bottom-most point of Tsukishima’s navel and his fingers hook at the waistband of completely black boxers. He pulls them lowers just a little bit, his lips traveling downwards as well, and he can almost feel as the skin becomes bumpy – very goosebump-eque. It suddenly occurs to them that they haven’t even discussed how exactly they were going to do this, but Yamaguchi was way too lost into external senses to bother with that.  


    Tsukishima’s hands are suddenly on his and start pushing downwards. Yamaguchi holds his breath. And exhales. He doesn’t know why, but Tsukki is far more aroused than he thought he would be. His cock is standing up plump and rosy, ready to go. The brunet wants to tell himself he’s embarrassed, but he’s not, in spite of all the times he imagined himself as such.  


    Yamaguchi also doesn’t know much about sucking dicks further than porn, but there is a strange phenomenon at work. As soon as his hands, his mouth are on Tsukki, somehow he knows. His lips wrap around the head naturally, he hollows his cheeks and gently pushes his head forward. About halfway through, there’s pressure on the back of his throat, Yamaguchi gags a bit and retreats his head diligently. Like a math formula. He looks up, and almost chokes back on air.  


    Tsukki looks completely entranced. Eyes closed, bottom lip between his teeth, brows furrowed together and a pink hue spread across his entire face. Yamaguchi pushes his head forward again and starts, to the best of his ability, to suck.  


    There’s encouraging hands on his head, then in his hair, gripping just to the point of pain. He wants to tell Tsukki he can go a little harder if he wanted to. “Fuck,” he suddenly hears from above. Breathy and full of need and utterly delightful. “Never thought you’d be good at this – you’re so good, fuck,” the eroticism of the blond cursing so openly and without restrain is only topped by the way his hips start moving to meet Yamaguchi’s pace.  


    Tsukishima is only momentarily surprised by the feeling of fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs, hissing quietly. “Thought about you like this,” he’s horribly honest, “so often,” Yamaguchi is also guilty. Maybe even a little bit more than guilty. He thought about what it’d be like to just straddle Tsukki’s hips one time, to bounce on his lap, to make him feel as good as possible. He wondered if his best friend would make a lot of noise, or if he’s quiet. The answer is apparently be the former.  


    Yamaguchi learns quickly how to relax his jaw and hollow his cheeks, he learns that if he tilts his head up just slightly then he can fit more of Tsukishima’s cock in his mouth, almost a full three fourths of the way down. One of his hands leaves the firm muscle of the high to start fondling the sack, careful not to hurt, but hard enough that he’s sure the other is feeling it. Tsukki indulges him for what simultaneously feels like an eternity and just one moment. More realistically speaking, it was probably 10 minutes later that the blond almost yanked his head off his dick.  


    Tsukki pushes him back on the bed in a hurry and for a long while he just stares. His stare is deep, intense and lustful. Yamaguchi’s lower half is all still dressed, but he squeezes his thighs together defensively. As if on cue, Tsukishima reaches for his knees and pushes them apart again. “That’s not fair, y’know,” it looks more like he’s talking to himself, so Yamaguchi doesn’t reply, “you already got to see everything. My turn.”  


    Yamaguchi obediently pushes his heels into the mattress and lifts his hips up. “Come and see then,” he urges sultrily. His jeans are gone in a matter of seconds, as is his underwear. Tsukishima lies on top of him, and feeling skin of skin everywhere becomes suddenly too overwhelming. His best friend hushes him with a kiss, then retreats. Once more, he’s staring.  


    Yamaguchi’s self defensive instincts kick in once more, and he squeezes his legs shut. “You’ve got any…y’know” he’s breathless, he can’t even remember if he brought any lube or condoms himself. “Kuroo-san said I would find some in the bathroom drawer, if I need any – I’ll…go get them,”  


    The blond spends a while staring at the upper half of his naked body, a box of condoms in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. He was in his friends’ bathroom, butt naked, with their _sex stuff_ , about to have sex on their couch. And they know. And he wasn’t kicked out. Also he was kind of drunk. He gives himself a little pep talk in the mirror, then walks out a little more confident. _You can do this, Kei._  


    He finds Yamaguchi with his legs dangling off the side of the bed and his hands between his legs. Not quite jerking himself off, but just rubbing his fingertips all over himself, murmuring words Tsukishima couldn’t understand. His thighs quiver every other second, and when he opens his eyes, Yamaguchi smiles. “I got over the embarrassment,”  
    Yamaguchi pushes himself all the way back on the bed and spreads out. In return, his best friend promptly descends between parted legs, hooking his arm underneath one knee and wrapping it around his own waist. He’s in the perfect position to see everything there is to see. He’s quick, working his fingers slick and warm enough so the contact won’t feel odd on the brunet’s skin.  


    Yamaguchi’s palms are on Tsukki’s forearms, then they descend. He grabs hold of his ass and spreads, the waits patiently. So far, so good. The initial stretch doesn’t faze him that much, he’s done this kind of things before. And besides, he’s too busy listening to the praise. _So good, Yamaguchi. It’s so tight. You’re gonna take me so well._ The last one, in particular, sends delightful shivers down his spine.  


    Tsukishima works his finger slowly. Twisting and then pushing gently again and again until there’s a sharp gasp coming from below, then a pleased groan. “Right there, found it well,” He wants to ask for more, he wants to be told he did well, but there’s a pride and ego that need to be satisfied. His meticulous mind’s well at work, he memorizes the feeling on the tips of his finger. Confidently, he adds another finger which meets little to no resistance.  


    Somehow, he can tell that Yamaguchi’s all nice and open and pliable and _just ripe_. He steadies himself with one pal pressed on his best friend’s chest while his other hand is at work, his fingers spread apart as far as they can go, they twist, push forward and retreat. He can tell Yamaguchi’s enjoying himself, but he wishes he could ask to be praised. He doesn’t.  


    Yamaguchi’s growing restless, pressing his heels into the back of Tsukki’s thighs, almost wanting to relieve that itch he’s feeling all by himself. He would, in fact, roll them over and just take what he wants, but the way there’s cold sweat dripping on Tsukishima’s temples, his little frown from concentration, his diligent fingers (3 of them now), it’s almost adorable to see him put in so much effort.  


    “Hey, hey Tsukki – I’m,” he’s somehow breathless just from laying, from taking and more than anything from loving. “I’m good, I want you,” he’s quick to reach for the box of condoms, almost stumps trying to open it up, and then does his best recreation of sexily tearing open a condom wrapper.  
    Yamaguchi lifts himself up into a sitting position. They’re close enough that he has no choice but to rest his head on the blonde’s shoulder, and he almost hides his face in there. Tsukki is not one bit softer than he was ten minutes ago. “You poor thing,” he whispers against his best friend’s skin. “You want me, Tsukki?” There’s no particular reason why he’s teasing, he just wants to test the ground.  


    “So fucking much,”  


    Cautiously, Yamaguchi grips the base of his cock, “Good boy.”  


    Tsukishima’s groan really surprises both of them . Yamaguchi shoots a look upwards, and his best friend almost— _almost_ –runs away. “Sorry, Tsukki,” he starts rolling on the condom, a little smirk on the corner of his lips, deliberate and a little cruel. “I didn’t think you’d like it this much, I’ll do it more,”  
    His back hits the mattress again with a soft thump. One look at Tsukki’s face is enough to realize he just found out who is, in fact, in charge here. Almost like a starved man coming upon food for the first time, he descends onto his forearms and devours Yamaguchi’s mouth. In turn, the brunet gives generously, wrapping possessive arms around shoulders that seem to be much wider than he remembers them.  


    Tsukishima hisses with the nails that are being dragged across the entire length of his back. “Tell me,” he barely hears the request over the sound of their lips smacking together loudly, tongues joining and mingling, and moaning from both parties. “Come on, ask nicely,”  


    “Please, Yamaguchi, I really—want to—”  


    “Hm?”  


    “—be inside you…”  


    “Very, _very_ good, Tsukki. But can’t you see? I’m all spread out like this, I’m all open and ready for you.”  


    The blonde complies with a grunt. The last sight he gets before entering slowly, bit by bit, almost as if Yamaguchi were to break, is also – Yamaguchi. Sweaty, panting, moist-eyed, naked, _beautiful_. The world stops for all but one full second, and the two of them forget to breathe. Yamaguchi closing his eyes shut, Tsukishima nuzzling at the crook of the brunet’s neck. He places an apologetic kiss on the exposed skin there, and tries his best to focus on Yamaguchi even when his brain’s mush, and the feeling of tightness all around his cock is throwing every rational thought out the window.  


    Tsukki scrambles to find the hands tightly gripping the sheets below, and drags them up. He pins each one up high and pushes his hips just slightly forward. He wants to ask Yamaguchi how he’s doing, is it too much – does it hurt – should he – “Tsukki…you’re so big, fuck, so good,” He keens the following moment, almost as if he’s the one taking it. “Come on – please, please, fuck, please move,”  


    It’s like he’s in a trance, really. He grips Yamaguchi’s wrists and starts rocking his hips, taking in the feeling bit by bit. He goes slowly, but hard. There’s the loud sound of skin slapping against skin every time he bottoms out, but they’re both trying their best to stay quiet, knowing that their hosts are just next door sleeping (?).  


    Yamaguchi twists and turns his wrists until he can lock their fingers together. “Tsukki, fuck, you’re so good for me,” he whispers in spite of himself, and looking up he’s not sure if he sees it clearly, but Tsukki looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Overcome with newfound confidence, the brunet starts moving his hips on his own, rolling them from side to side and bouncing back on Tsukki’s thighs until he can find his prostate again.  


    Tsukishima hides his face in that comforting shoulder once more. Feeling safe and secure, he picks up his pace, giving up the hand holding in favor of holding his best friend’s body as close as possible and give it to him as good as possible. “I wanna – fuck…”  


    “I wanna be good for you.”  


    Yamaguchi is almost shocked by how clearly hears that. It quickly occurs to him that Tsukki definitely has a praise kink which he intends to explore the full extent of at a later date.  


    “You’re gonna cum for me, Tsukki?”  


    “Yeah, please.”  


     _“Ask.”_  


     He didn’t stop to consider if he is into that as well, but at the moment he is. He’d like to hear someone with so much presence, someone so intimidating beg. (Or at least politely ask, that would be great, too.)  


    “Please, Yamaguchi, I want to cum, please,”  


Almost as if to strengthen his point, he grips the base of Yamaguchi’s cock and starts pumping rapidly. It’s not like either of them were in a position to refuse any sort of requests right now, but hearing those words leaves Yamaguchi pleasantly satisfied. The motion of his hips creates perfect friction and he can feel himself getting close. “Come on, Tsukki,” He urges and he can feel the exact moment his best friend stills, stops breathing and trembles with the power of his orgasm.  


  He pulls out slowly, looking down and, with trembling hands, removes his condom. He throws one more look down and realizes his job’s not yet done. Without a word, he descends until he’s eye-level with the brunet’s cock. He massages the muscles around Yamaguchi’s navel gently, his lips going all over his hips and kissing.  


  He takes the cock in his hand one more and starts, with the same rhythm as before, to pump his hand. Yamaguchi lazily leans his head back, already delightfully pliant from before. His muscles tense, however, when his dick is suddenly engulfed in wet, warm heat. The thing that sends him over the edge however, is Tsukki pulling back just enough to sneak in a _“Tadashi, you look so good now,”_ before diving back in.  


  The sight of Tsukishima swallowing his cum without even a word of complaint is so erotic he might get another hard-on, but gentle, yet rough palms on his thighs distract him. He’s pretty sure he has sobered completely by now. There’s light from the moon shining through the window, showcasing the faint blush adorning pale cheeks, strands of blonde hair glued to where the forehead has gotten damp in concentration.  


   Without a word, Tsukishima lays down besides his boyfriend (?) and stares at the ceiling. Yamaguchi gives himself a moment before taking it upon himself to rest his head on his chest, much broader than his own. Almost like puzzle pieces falling together, Tsukki naturally wraps both his arms around the other, holding him.  


  “Tsukki, hey, don’t sleep yet,” Yamaguchi chuckles.  


   “Sleepy…”  


    “Let’s at least put on some underwear on in case they wake up before us.”  


“Oh – oh you’re right.”  


They sleep just like that, only boxers on, legs and arms tangled together. Yamaguchi almost wants to whisper _I love you_ before he falls asleep, but he feels that they’ve both already said enough.  


      Morning comes fast and almost cruel, bright rays of sunlight ripping the taller of the two from his peaceful sleep. Naturally, he would expect the first sight he sees to be the sun directly in his eyes, so when he makes the effort to open his eyes and the first thing that catches his sight is black hair, he almost jumps up. “Yo~”  


      “Oh god.”  


    “We made breakfast, but I’m sure you ate well enough already~”  


_“Oh god.”_  


    Kuroo moves to his feet with a coy smile and as he returns to the kitchen, he almost misses the little Thank you whispered his way. A nod of approval is all he gives in return.  


    Looking to his side, Yamaguchi is still asleep at his side, head resting on his shoulder, hair a mess. The ridiculously vivid memories of the previous night run wild through his head, but he doesn’t turn to look away, not when finally, after years of waiting and hoping he’s finally got what he wanted. It just needed a little help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like...smut is not my forte. 
> 
> find me on twitter @rapmonied and let's talk

**Author's Note:**

> ok so like...smut's not my forte i apologize.


End file.
